


Meet you in Sovngard

by wanderingidealism



Series: The Tales of Skadi Thrymdottir. [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Hall of Valor, Sovngard, out of body experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingidealism/pseuds/wanderingidealism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is based off me and my friend's recent epiphany on two of our Skyrim OC's, dragonborn's (obviously only ONE can be the dragon born)</p>
<p>It's kind of a preview for something yet to come. I'm re-writing a fanfiction I posted on FF.net and it's grown bigger than I expected. A preview of the tale of Thorbjorn Thrymson, the father of my Dragonborn.<br/>so summary; After being wounded in battle, Skadi has an out of body experience, where she meets someone she didn't expect to ever see again...</p>
<p>This has a lot of canon stretching... I mean, Skadi is a werewolf. lol. She wouldn't even get NEAR Sovngard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet you in Sovngard

**Author's Note:**

> This is a preview of a story about my Dragonborn's father. I suck at timelines and will probably fuck up the timelines of the Great War, so don't flame me. I cannot do math at all. 
> 
> mind you I haven't started writing the full story yet, but I am working on it. As fast as I can. 
> 
> Shades of Light and Shadow is on hiatus until I defeat the enemy known as writer's block; I just cannot write feels.

            The figure stood before her, glowing brightly in the gateway to the Hall of Valor, a beaming smile on his face. He stood proudly next to Tsun, seeming to tower even over the ancient guardian. Skadi would recognize the man’s spiral war-paint anywhere. His red-hair, streaked with gray, though washed-out by the veil between life and death,  brought memories she had long forgotten to her mind. Of evenings spent as a little girl braiding the thick locks, as he laughed and told her stories of his adventures. His battle-worn hands brought forth images of days spent training in the yard, where he wouldn’t go easy on her, so she’d learn better. Those same hands that gripped the war hammer tightly were gentle at night, when he’d chase away her childhood nightmares with funny stories and soft songs from his homeland.

            “Papa?” Skadi whispered, her voice trembling with shock and tears. The figure before her smiled, and let out a familiar, warm, booming laugh.

            “My, how long it has been! My own daughter forgets my face!” he laughed, as Skadi ran to his side and hugged him around the middle. Tears streamed down the fearless Nord’s face as she gripped her father around the middle.

            _I must seem childish to him,_ she briefly thought, _sobbing like a babe._ Her thoughts stopped as she felt his warm, callused fingers card through her hair, like they did so many times when she was a child.

            “I missed you too, lass,” Thorbjørn said softly, and Skadi saw tears running down his face as well, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, _ástin mín_.”

            “It wasn’t your fault Papa,” Skadi muttered into his worn breastplate, her voice soft and weak with emotion, “You didn’t know what he would do to you. You didn’t know he’d betray you…. I didn’t know Suleem would betray me… I guess we both fell for the same traps.”

            Thorbjørn laughed heartily at his daughter’s response, “aye my _dearling_ , but you came out the better, my strong daughter. You have made me so proud,” Skadi could feel his tears drip into her hair, and she realized they were not tears of sorrow or emotion; her father was tearing up with pride.

            “I wouldn’t have made it far at all, if you hadn’t taught me how to take my first steps,” She said, wiping her eyes.

            “You’ve grown more than I could have ever hoped, _fauntkin_ ” he smiled at her, holding her close, as he once did, when she was wee and young, “You’ve outshone me as a warrior, a Companion… you’ve helped so many people, and you’ve become more than I could ever hope to become.”

            It felt odd to Skadi, hearing such words from a man who towered above all others- even her own husband; a man who had taught her to climb mountains, and trek forests, who seemed at times louder than thunder, and larger than the world itself. To hear such praises from a man who seemed to dominate every friendly sparring match in the backyard, who scolded her when she did wrong, and praised her when she did well filled Skadi with pride. She had made her father, the strongest man she had ever known, and the gentlest man she had ever known, even more proud. It was rather like when she was a babe, running to show her parents whatever creature she happened to stumble across, dragging it home with excitement, eager to please.

            “I could never be greater than you, Papa,” Skadi insisted, her voice no longer trembling, “You were the strongest man I knew, and still are; I could never surpass that,” Skadi smiled.

            “But you have, _Svass;_ You have done much more than I ever could have. You are a hero, a warrior, and you did that all by your own might. I could never be more proud of you,” He replied, squeezing her again, “You started a beautiful family… you’re a mother now, and a wife… I wish I could have been there, _Svass…_ I wish I could have been beside you, and guided you on the way; walked you up that aisle. You’ve done much in your time, more than I did when I walked the lands of Nirn,” he sighed, wiping tears from his eyes.

            “Thank you Papa,” Skadi whispered, “For everything you did when you were alive.”

            “Thank you lass, for becoming the strong one I see before me today,” her father said, “My beautiful, strong, little girl… Though, I can’t really call you little anymore, can I, _fauntkin_?” He laughed again, and Skadi laughed alongside him, hearing the laugh rumble through his armor. They paused, a moment of silence followed, where they simply embraced each other as a father and daughter would.

            “Am I… am I dead, Papa?” Skadi asked suddenly, realizing that there was no other reason for her to even be in Sovngard. Her stomach dropped into her feet, concern welling. She hadn’t even said goodbye to her husband and children. All she could remember was a battle against necromancers, a large flash of light, and her husband screaming out her name.

            Her father patted her head reassuringly, “Not quite yet, _Svass,_ ” he smirked, “Your time hasn’t arrived yet. You’re simply unconscious.”

            She could hear a faint shouting in the background, growing steadily louder. It was man calling her name in despair.

            “ _Skadi, you can’t be dead, you have to live! Please… Please hear me!”_

            “Papa, I don’t want to lose you again!” Skadi  said, as Sovngard began to dissipate and fade around her, Tsun, beckoning her father forth once more. Thorbjørn released Skadi reluctantly, still smiling sadly.

“ _Skadi, please say something! You can’t be dead!”_

            “We’ll meet again _svass,_ ” he said, ruffling her hair affectionately, “In the Hall of Valor, where your name will be sung with pride,” He gave her a final squeeze, before turning back to Tsun.

            “ _Skadi! Wake up, please,”_

            “I’ll miss you Papa!” Skadi shouted behind him, as he grew further and further away, fading into the light alongside the rest of Sovngard. She could hardly hear herself above the thunderous sound of her name being screamed to high heaven in desperation.

_“SKADI! WAKE UP! Please don’t be dead, don’t leave me!”_

            The last thing she could see was her father’s beaming smile, before the vision of Sovngard faded away entirely, into bright light. She drifted down into darkness.

            _“SKADI!”_ the voice was clearly in tears now, and rough hands were shaking her body, in an attempt to stir her. A smaller, softer voice in the background could be heard choking back sobs.

            “ _She can’t hear you brother,”_ muttered another, gruff voice _, “She’s gone.”_

            In Skadi’s mind, she heard the familiar voices above her, and fought her way through the black, emptiness of unconsciousness to prove them wrong. She had to reach him- she had to reach the man crying over her- to tell him she was alive, and give him comfort. That’s all she needed to do.

            She fought to the point of exhaustion, over what seemed like years and ages. And the only thing to show for it was her left ring finger twitching slightly against the hand holding it. Skadi heard a gasp and a shout of relief, before falling into blackness again.

**

            “SKADI! WAKE UP! Please don’t leave me…” Farkas cried, anguished. His hands were coated with blood, most of it from staunching the wound on his wife’s side, made by an Ice Atronach’s hand as it fell. Skadi would have been unconscious from blood loss by now, if that were the end of her injuries. One of the Necromancers had awakened a draugr Death Lord on accident with a misfired spell, and the Death Lord had aimed a well placed _Fus_ at the Harbinger, slamming her into the wall with the might of his shout. She had lost consciousness, and had a severe head wound.

            Farkas had lost his control upon seeing his wife flung into the wall as if she were but a rag doll. In his rage he had transformed, tearing apart anything that got in his path with such a ferocity it nearly made Vilkas vomit. The necromancers and the draugr were finished quickly. Farkas reverted back into a human, and upon locating Skadi’s still, unmoving form, sank to his knees.

Vilkas gazed at his brother’s back sadly, unable to offer comfort to his twin when he needed it most. He hadn’t seen his brother this upset since they were young- when news of Jergen’s death had reached Jorvaskrr.

            Thorn had tried her best to heal Skadi, managing to close the head wound, but the Harbinger had not yet reacted to outside stimulus; her body was still, pale in the flickering torchlight. She thought that if Farkas called to Skadi, perhaps it would help her wake. She still had Skadi’s head in her lap, her healing spell glowing brightly as she put all her energy to fixing the wounds.

            But who could wake a dead woman?

            Farkas let out one more anguished shout, shaking his wife’s body. Thorn made no move to stop him, tears streaming down her face smearing the dirt and blood caked on her cheeks. She couldn’t hold back her sobs.

            “She can’t hear you, brother,” Vilkas said, sadly, “She’s gone.”

            His words were laced with emotion, but spoken solemnly. He couldn’t bring himself to crush his brother’s heart, but someone had to say it. The Harbinger would not wake- not from this sleep. It had happened before, to many more warriors, some stronger than even she. He closed his eyes, as he heard Farkas collapse in his anguish, wracking sobs shaking the strong, battle-hardened body of his twin. He couldn’t bear to watch.

            He did turn around though, when he heard Thorn suck in a breath.

            “Her finger twitched!” The bosmer gasped, relief flooding her voice. Farkas let out a relieved shout, gripping his wife’s other hand.

            “Vilkas, can you find me a potion of Magika?” Thorn asked, as she concentrated her efforts on healing the Harbinger, “My energy is running low. I think I saw one walking in.”

            Vilkas nodded and hurried out of the door, afraid to show how relieved he was that his sister-in-law was recovering. He found the potion and hurried to deliver it to the elf, who drank it quickly.

            A few minutes later, the Harbinger opened her eyes slowly.

            Farkas had to force himself not to scoop Skadi into his arms and hug her to death. His eyes were still watering with relief. She gave him a small, tired smile.

            “Hello,” she whispered. Farkas gripped her hand and chuckled softly.

            “You’re alive,” he whispered, relieved. He nuzzled her hand affectionately.

            “Don’t try to sit up, Skadi,” Thorn urged, as her friend made to do so, “You’re concussed, and you have a gaping hole in your side, and I’ve no magika left to heal it.”

            “ We’ll bandage it for now, let’s get out of here as quickly as possible,” Vilkas said, looking around, “this musty air can’t be good for an open wound.”

            Farkas and Vilkas hurried off to find some materials to make a stretcher (after Vilkas helped his brother back into his armor.) while they were gone, Thorn patched up Skadi’s side as quickly and cleanly as possible.

            “I saw Sovngard, you know,” Skadi whispered to her friend. Thorn paused, shocked.

            “How? Wouldn’t Hircine be waiting for you?” Thorn asked, cautiously.

            “Aye, but I saw the gates to the Hall of Valor nonetheless,” Skadi replied, gazing at some far off object, dazed, “I saw Tsun, standing guard on the bridge, and I saw my father, beaming at me. We talked, and he smiled at me… Then I heard Farkas…. Farkas pulled me back, I think,” she added, softly.

            Thorn was silent for a while, unsure of what to say. She finished bandaging Skadi’s side, and quickly re-checked the head wound, “If he was able to call you back, it was because it wasn’t your time to die. That Hircine wasn’t waiting to ambush you was a sign.”

            “I guess you’re right,” Skadi muttered.

            “What did your father say when you spoke to him?” Thorn asked curiously, “Unless you’d rather keep it quiet.”

            “I would rather keep it to myself… for now,” Skadi said. Thorn nodded.

            “Skadi… you have…. I’m very relieved you’re alive… I was so afraid that I had failed you,” Thorn said.

            Before Skadi had a chance to reply, Farkas and Vilkas reappeared, bearing a roughly hewn stretcher between them. They loaded Skadi onto it, and the group left swiftly, exiting the old barrow into the cold night.

            Skadi never did tell her friends what her father had told her, taking the secret to her grave, in hopes that she would be able to see the hero she called “papa” ere she took her final breath and entered the afterlife.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Author’s note:_

_Translations for the terms of endearment used by Skadi’s father;_

_Ástin Min-_ (My dear, my darling)

_Dearling- dearest little one )I think this was old English, but I’m not entirely positive. I looked Them up last night and forgot._

_Fauntkin-_ (young child, for she is such in his eyes)

_Svass-_ beloved, though here I am using it in a parent to child sense. Not romantic.

 

_I bet you lot were expecting me to update “Shades of Light and Shadow” next right? Well, I would except I had a sudden attack of writer’s block. I know where it’s going, but I am stuck on writing a vital scene._


End file.
